The lamb loping over emerald field
shimmers as moist crystal in pre-dusk light.
Its mimicking shadow, like a dark shield,
folds and unfolds—a bold raven in flight.
We’ll stride through those far trees, reach the coastline’s
rugged grassland in time to see the sun
set the tide ablaze, hear stark gannets whine
their stuttered complaints, watch them rise to stun
the earth with sleek pearl and carbonado
wings. What can I tell you of their blue-rimmed
eyes? How legend lyrics from long ago
their challenging gods, who in laughter trimmed
their brows with aqua hue to match both sky
and sea, granting them power still to fly.
Roger Armbrust
April 9, 2013
